Last Words
by elphiegravity
Summary: Goodbyes. Funny how you can so loathe something you seem particularly good at creating. For Helena that was goodbyes. They were all she'd seemed to encounter in life. Along with the pain that came so closely bundled with each one.


**Because after this episode I just had so many feelings.**

"Fight for him. You're clearly really good at caring for people."

Last words. She'd heard so many of them in her years. Last words from her daughter, her brother, her partner, the regents, Artie, Pete, Claudia…Myka.

"So is this goodbye?"

Goodbyes. Funny how you can so loathe something you seem particularly good at creating. For Helena that was goodbyes. They were all she'd seemed to encounter in life. Along with the pain that came so closely bundled with each one.

Tears had very quietly formed in Myka's eyes, "I don't want to lose a friend."

Friend was a word she questioned so often. Myka was a word she questioned so often. All those experiences they'd had seemed like forever ago, like maybe they were just hazy dreams. It made her head spin. What did anything even mean? Why was she striving for this life of normalcy? Why did she crave it so passionately? It was never what she wanted. She'd always found the idea of a regular life insufferable and tiring. So why had she chased it? Even as hard as she'd tried to keep it away her old life, her past anguish had shown up at her front doorstep quite literally, and smashed her numbness to smithereens. _You can't hide from your truth; it will always find you._

"I doubt you could lose this friend even if you tried," she smiled weakly, and cautiously wrapped her arms around Myka. It hurt, the warmth and comfort she'd been missing. The adventure, the sharp racing of her heart. It hurt because it wasn't her truth anymore. It couldn't be. It hurt because soon she'd be just as cold as she had been for months. Comfort is a set up for heartache. It never lasts. She curled her fingers around Myka's shoulders, desperately grasping for a memory of the feeling.

And of course in split seconds Myka had shut herself in the car, putting a barrier between them.

"Maybe I'll see you again soon,"

"Maybe just for coffee this time," she tried smiling, but it hurt, so she stopped.

"Or saving the world, you know, whatever." Humor. The only way they'd ever managed to stay sane through the ripping torture of their confused lives; where the past hit like shards of glass.

"_Just like old days, Wells and Bering, solving puzzles, saving the day."_

_ "Bering and Wells."_

Bering and Wells. Never again. The thought was blackness that swallowed light from your head and made you dizzy. She hated the word never, much like the word impossible. It only ever reminded her of chains.

She watched the headlights disappear down Normalcy Street USA. The life she'd never wanted. The deception that had helped her hide from her truth for so long. Only now instead of a disguise it was a mistake. A prison. It was like the Escher vault. It was everything she wanted in the most complex, maddening package that drove you to insanity.

_Don't lose your truth._

What if she didn't know her truth? She'd lost it. And the only person who could ever bring it back, had kept it, in hopes of returning an age old favor.

_We're all a little broken,_ she thought. _But we can all mend each other._ She used to think that a place where she belonged could do that. But too late she had realized she could only ever heal in adventurous situations, with the crazy, just-as-broken people she'd known and loved. It was who she was, and she had walked away from all of it. Leaving the pieces scattered behind recklessly. But now what? Myka had always found good where Helena could only see bad. Every time she would smile through the wrenching pain and just breathe, _"Endless wonder…_" as if it was some way around the uncertainty Helena felt so strangled by. Sacrifice, it seemed, was on the job listing at the Warehouse. But Myka, she had been wrong about Helena being the one that cared so much and fought so hard. Myka had fought so brutally, against hate, fear, rage, herself. Myka had this beautiful way of pulling light into her darkness.

She pulled her jacket around her, the night growing chillier. Her fingernails involuntarily dug into her wrists, something she remembered Myka doing when she was scared or confused.

_We became friends because we are alike in many ways._ They were practically mirrors. So similar, but unable to touch one another. Creating a literal paradox when they faced each other. It was maddening. Why did it have to be this way? She couldn't have imagined a more contrasting life when she was young. So full of morale and ambition. Where had it all gone? Had it been sucked up somewhere along the way? Why was she here in this foreign world? What had she come to do? Save the world? Settle down? Fall in love? Why weren't there answers tucked away neatly somewhere? Answers she could spend her life trying to find. For the longest time Helena G. Wells had loved questions. But that was when hunting for the answers had been possible. And now that it wasn't it was just another word she hated so fiercely, impossible.

"You look cold."

Helena jumped. "Adelaide, you,"

"Brought you a scarf," she said, slipping the soft wool around her neck.

"Yes, thanks," she muttered, trying to make herself feel warm in the scarf, but it just couldn't be.

"What are you so puzzled about?" she asked, studying Helena's eyes intently.

"Oh, nothing," she lied.

"It's something about her, isn't it?" The girl asked. She refused to drop the subject. Just as damned stubborn as Christina.

She smiled, "Who darling?"

"That woman you were with. She said something. That's it isn't it?"

HG sighed, and nodded barely, "Yes darling, that's it." It was silent for a long while. The neighborhood had gone to sleep in anticipation of their everyday lives. House pets rustled the drapes and the winds blew softly, but other than that it was quiet.

"Is she your truth?" Adelaide finally asked.

Helena looked shocked, as if the very question had slapped her in the face. Was Myka her truth? What had the past years meant? What had she left behind? More questions, but still no answers.

"I, I don't know."

Adeline looked thoughtful. "Could she help you find your truth?"

Myka Bering? Iron-willed, loving, bookworm. Kick-ass agent. Humorous smarty pants. Everything HG loved in a person. The strength to pull her through a world she didn't seem to fit in. The courage to keep coming back, after everything Helena had done to her. The quiet undertones of every word they uttered to each other. Everything with her so full of meaning.

"Yes, I believe she could."


End file.
